


Happily Ever After

by Wolfermann



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Ross to the rescue, how the terror should have actually ended, mentions of cannibalism, scurvy is one hell of a disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfermann/pseuds/Wolfermann
Summary: Prompt 8: A time of miracles





	Happily Ever After

They were at the end of their rope, starved, diseased, and dying when Ross arrived. Francis Crozier couldn’t hardly believed the smiling bastard was there before him, with fresh supplies, lemon water, and ships waiting to take them home. Thomas Blanky cursed his luck with a grin on his weathered face, he would have to rely on another Ross to make it out of the arctic alive. Crozier rushed quickly to the worn down canvas tent James Fitzjames lay slowly rotting away in, pushing past a quiet Le Vesconte to reach his fellow Captain.

“James! James, we are going to live.” The Irishman’s voice broke as he cupped the younger man’s face, tears at the ready from happiness as the greatest burden seemed to lift from his wary shoulders. James himself, barely conscious with cognac bloodshot eyes, hazily gazed up at Crozier. A bloody smile tugged on his windburned lips.

“I told you. I’ve beaten the Reaper once again.” If he wasn’t on the brink of death, Francis would have smacked him. Instead he placed a gentle kiss on his temple and stroking his matted hair from his face.

“Aye love, I should have believed you from the beginning. I was a fool to think otherwise.”

 

* * *

Within a week they were moving quickly to safety, those suffering the most seemed to already be in better health and spirit. To many’s surprise, they found their missing doctor only a few days into rescue. Harry Goodsir, wild curls and wild eyes had made his way with a sad looking Lieutenant George Hodgson in the dead of the night during one Caulkers Mate Cornelius Hickey’s mutiny. He had told the party of his daring feat, running away when they asked him to be dismember one recently deceased William Gibson for cannibalism. Crozier wouldn’t put it passed a man like Hickey to resort to something so heinous.

All that ended once the rest of the crew caught up to Goodsir’s return. He was first tackled by his brother, Robert, equal in curls and degrees, then by the massive Henry Collins who was slowly recovering from his own time fighting against the beast. It may have been the end of the Mate if James hadn’t put several rockets into the Tuunbaq. Still, he bore a few new scars and seemed to completely light up from the return of the beloved Doctor. In all his time with Collins, Crozier had never seen him so blissful and at piece holding onto Goodsir.

 

* * *

They camped later that evening and with two doctors in, Bridgen’s took leave to care for a special patient. The older man tenderly held onto his younger companion, Henry Peglar, as he read to him from the man’s own journal. He wished the medicine and food would be enough to help his darling but only time would tell.

The Steward gently kissed the top of his lovers head, noting just to himself Henry’s scalp had seemed to heal.

“John,” The younger man rasped, making the Steward’s heart skip a beat in his chest. Hearing his name on Peglar’s lips always made him soften. “I want to go home to your library. I really miss a book that is worth a damn.”

“Your talent is undiscovered, Henry. Give it time and people will treat you as the next Shakespeare.” His compliment brought a smile to Peglar’s bearded face before his body was racked by a coughing spell.

“Perhaps. Perhaps I will be.”

 

* * *

They had passed Greenland by now, already nearly home. Thomas Jopson could hardly wait to return to his sisters. He had received their letters, years worth of them when they were within range of communication. He re-read some of the older letters, cherishing the words like they were from the lord himself while his bunk companion brooded.

There were too many sailors to one ship but they made the best of a bad situation, multiple officers taking to a cabin and crew bunking together. Jopson shared a room with the remaining officers from _Terror_ , Edward Little and George Hodgson, and the last reminding _Erebus_ Officer Henry Le Vesconte. Currently it was only Edward and himself sitting in silence.

“I’m glad.. I’m glad we didn’t leave anyone… we didn’t leave the sick behind.” Little whispered, he looked better with a clean shave and months of hot meals but there was a great sorrow in his heart, something plaguing his soul. Jopson knew exactly what he was referring too and put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder.

“We did not. And we are here now. There is no use dwelling on the maybes and decisions that did not come to pass.” Jopson squeezed his shoulder some and giving the man a kind smile, one he could tell Little did not think he was deserving of.

“You’re right, Thomas,” Edward sighed. They had better things to dwell on; seeing their families, promotions, and being home after nearly five years. “You’re always right.”

 

* * *

Cornelius Hickey sat on a sandy beach looking at the bluest water he had ever seen in his entire life. Years of hardship really did pay off. Freedom rarely ever came without a cost after all. He was no longer in the arctic and he was no longer in dreary England. No Queen to hang him, no Captain to flog him. Just himself, Solomon Tozer, and a handful of survivors from his crew. They caught a whaling ship on their own and hopped boat by boat to their own little slice of paradise.

He lay out in the white sand like a lazy cat finding a patch of sun to sleep in all day. Cornelius, as he still went by, was truly content. Solomon, his Solly sat beside him putting a cool hand on the red head’s back, he had been swimming recently.

“You’re gonna burn if you lay out here like this.” Tozer hummed, brushing his hair from his neck to kiss his freckled skin. The ex marine was already gorgeously tan from spending hours outside, working or fishing, and he had put back on some of the muscle he lost. Hickey couldn’t think of a better man to share this with. Before he had promised Gibson eternity like this but he had rejected him. Poor Billy ended up dead but useful after all. He was blind to not see his real love before him.

“If I burn, I burn. I’m doing what I want to.” Hickey purred, rolling onto his back to bring Tozer down with him and capture his mouth on his own. He wouldn’t be arguing for long if they kept this up and Hickey preferred it that way. Together they were free.


End file.
